


Life Is a Bizarre Adventure

by machiavellianFictionist



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game), ジョジョの奇妙な冒険 | JoJo no Kimyou na Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon LGBTQ Character, Canon LGBTQ Female Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Violence, F/F, JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Part 7: Steel Ball Run, JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Part 7: Steel Ball Run Spoilers, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Female Character, LGBTQ Themes, POV Alternating, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Trans Max Caulfield
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:15:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21828820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/machiavellianFictionist/pseuds/machiavellianFictionist
Summary: Max Caulfield is at her lowest, forced to abandon her friend when she needed her most. She will soon find out she's not alone. She will never have to be alone again.
Relationships: Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	Life Is a Bizarre Adventure

Max Caulfield laid awake on her bed. She had spent all night twisting and turning. As hard as she tried, as exhausted as she was, sleep had refused to come. Her new room was spacious and barren. Half a dozen boxes were still piled against a wall. She hadn't bothered changing out of her clothes before getting into bed. Her body felt sweaty and uncomfortable, and she couldn't bring herself to care. It was the least of her concerns.

"Chloe, I'm so sorry."

Her voice was hoarse and foreign, and not just because she had spent most of the night crying. It started happening a few weeks ago. She had known it would someday and had dreaded it before she even knew why. She felt a new wave of sobbing build up in her throat and it just made her feel worse.

How could she fret over her voice after losing her best friend? After Chloe losing her father? It was so small in the grand scheme of things. She still buried her face in her pillow and did her best to weep quietly.

She wished she could fall asleep again, but the sun was already shining through the half-open blinds and she didn't have to energy to get up and close them. She checked her watch. It was just past seven. At least she didn't have to go to school. Neither did Chloe. She was probably in bed as well, crying for William, and Max, and her whole life falling apart.

Part of Max wanted to call her. It would be so easy. Her mom would probably let her use her cell phone for this, wouldn't she? But then what would she say? What could you even say after what happened?

She could hear all the excuses and platitudes in her head. I'm sorry for your loss. I miss you so much it hurts. I'm turning into something I don't want to be and I'm scared. I'm so scared. I need you now more than ever and I don't know if I'll ever see you again. I miss William, and I know you do too, and I don't know what I could say to make it better. I don't know if anything can ever be better.

It wouldn't do. They all just sounded so pathetic.

She heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Max quickly wiped her tears on the back of her hand. She didn't want her dad to catch her crying again. The knock on the door came seconds later.

"Come in!"

Ryan Caulfield entered her room cautiously, like he was confronting a scared animal. She couldn't blame him. She had locked herself up in her room all night and refused to come downstairs for dinner. Her parents had eventually relented and left her a tray loaded with takeout outside her door. She had picked at it so slowly that it had gone cold far before she managed to finish it.

Her dad was probably angry at her, after what she pulled the night before. Her mother probably was too. At least one of them had bothered with a wake up call. Her father walked towards her bed and sat down without a word. Too late Max realized her eyes were probably raw and red, and her dad had absolutely noticed. She stared down at her covers, trying to avoid his gaze.

"Your mom's making breakfast."

It was true. Max could smell the pancakes all the way from the kitchen. Her mother must have gotten up early to make them. It was an obvious attempt to lure her downstairs, but all it did was remind her of Chloe.

"I'm not hungry right now. I'll go down later."

That wasn't entirely a lie. Maybe she would. But for the time being all she wanted was to lie down and try to forget. Her father sighed.

"Max, you can't just lock yourself in your room like this. I get how hard this is for you, but we-"

"Do you really? How could we do that to her? Leaving on the day of William's funeral? How could do that to us?"

She didn't intend to raise her voice, but she didn't stop. Her mom could probably hear her from downstairs. She didn't care. She could feel the tears coming again. She could hear her fucking voice breaking, now of all times.

"Max, I'm so sorry. Your mom... there's nothing we could do. She starts work today, and she couldn't say no to this promotion. Things will get better, if you just give Seattle a chance. This is awful, I know, and I can't imagine how you must feel, but-"

She forced herself to look at her father, at his square jaw, his bushy beard, his thick eyebrows, his already receding hairline.

"You're right. You can't, and how could you? Just leave me alone! I don't want to hear anything else about Seattle, just leave me alone!"

Her father flinched. At least he was trying to remain composed. It really wasn't his fault. That didn't make it any better. It seemed he was done talking. With another glance and a pat on her back, her father stood silently and left the room. Max stared at her knees until he closed the door behind him. She let herself shudder as soon as he was gone. She couldn't stop thinking about it now. Her hands went to her own hair, far too short for her own liking. Her mother had insisted on cutting it.

She had done her research about it. At first she though male pattern baldness was just something you inherited from your mother's side. That had calmed her down for a while, since none of her relatives from her mother's side were bald. But apparently it was something you could get from your father as well. Just imagining her hair thinning and giving way to her scalp was enough to make her skin crawl. Her hands gripped her hair so hard it hurt. She needed air.

Max stood up and ran to the window, raising the blinds and pushing it open. She felt the cool October air on her face and did her best to calm her breathing.

"I hate this. I fucking hate this. Why now, why now of all times?"

She had to see. It couldn't happen so early, she knew it was ridiculous, but she desperately needed to check. She turned to the boxes stacked to one side of her room, and to the bag placed on top of them. Max owned no mirrors, she could barely stand to look at them most of the time, but she'd make do. From the bag she took her yellow Polaroid Job Pro, a birthday gift from her parents and her most prized possession.

She raised her hand, aimed the camera at herself and clicked the shutter. Momentarily blinded by the flash in her still too dark room, she absurdly realized this was the first time she'd ever taken a picture of herself. A second later, the picture was out. She pulled it free and set her camera down on the boxes, waiting for it to develop.

And there she was.

Max Caulfield in her short boyish haircut, her loose boyish clothes, her sad boyish face. The girl who'd never be pretty, who'd never be happy, who no one would ever fall in love with.

She had forgotten what led her to take the picture in the first place. All she wanted to do was to crumple it, or tear it to pieces, but she didn't have the strength to do it. All she could do was hold it helplessly and let the tears fall.

Max blinked. The Max in the picture blinked back.

She was so surprised she nearly let go of the picture. The Max staring back at her looked out of focus, but a second later it didn't. She dried her eyes with her sleeve and looked again, but the same thing happened. The lines and colors were blurring rapidly now, and she could almost feel it vibrate in her hands. The picture suddenly flashed before her eyes, and this time she let go of it like it was a live grenade.

It didn't fall.

Someone had caught the picture with a soft pale hand. Max stepped back to look at this person and found a strange creature. It stood as tall as herself. Its body from the waist up was that of a woman, but strangely enough it stood on a doe's lower body. Even stranger was that Max didn't flinch at the sight. She didn't feel afraid. If anything it was somehow familiar. The creature's face was soft and beautiful. A moment later Max realized it reminded her of her mother. On its head rested a crown made from deer antlers arranged in a circle, speckled with blue, pink and white flowers.

It extended the picture towards Max again. Max reached to take it, but then did a double take when she looked at it. The picture no longer showed Max, but a different person.

Someone familiar. Someone who looked just like her.

If she'd had a twin sister, it would have been her. The room behind her looked the same, but she couldn't have been more different. She was smiling.

"What is this? Who... What are you?"

The strange creature didn't answer. It reached for Max's face, slowly, and cupped her cheek in its hands. It tenderly wiped the tears with its thumbs.

"I don't understand, why are you showing me this? Where did you come from?"

Still silent, it instead moved toward Max. While before its hands had been tangible, it now passed through her as it it were a ghost. Max turned around, but saw nothing behind her. She looked all around her. The creature had vanished.

She could feel her heart beat faster, her skin grow cold. The picture in her hands still showed the smiling girl. It had been real. How did she do that? Could she make it happen again?

She placed the picture on one of the boxes, propped up straight against her camera, and stretched out her hand towards it. She stretched further more.

The creature's pale hand reached out next to hers.

"You came... from me?"

The picture moved again. It flickered and shifted, its colors changed and flashed. It took a moment for Max to realize it was larger than before. The picture was growing, faster now, until the girl in was the size of Max herself.

Then it stopped. And it seemed not a picture, but a mirror, reflecting Max's room behind her. But it wasn't just a mirror. It looked so real she felt she could reach through it. It was a window, one that opened back into her own room. And in that room, she saw herself.

The Max who stared back at her had long straight hair, neatly brushed, long enough to reach her shoulders. It was held in place by a small hair clip. She wore a simple blue dress. Her skin looked smooth and clear, her lips were colored pink, her eyes were bright blue and free of tears.

She was beautiful.

For the first time in her life, Max Caulfield wept tears of joy.

The Max on the other side of the picture smiled tenderly. There was no pity behind that gesture, just understanding.

"Hello, Maxine."

Max had to laugh. It was too unreal not to. The other Max laughed with her.

"I take it this is your first time doing this?"

Max nodded. She didn't dare to say anything. She felt like in a dream, and feared she would wake up if she did.

"That's okay. It's only my third time, really. I have so much to show you."

She stepped aside, and only then did Max notice the creature standing behind her. It was the same one who had caught the picture. Max looked and found that her own creature was now standing beside her. Strangely enough, it somehow felt right. She turned to the other Max, looking for some explanation.

"Max, this is Ache With Me. This one is mine, and that one is yours. They are our power. Ours, and all the others' too."

"Others? There's more like us?"

"More of us, all of us Max, just like you and me. I've met two more, but between those two and me we've met at least eight."

They talked for nearly an hour after that. Max said her goodbyes only after the other promised that they'd speak again later that day. She held the once again inert picture carefully, and labeled it with the time and date in permanent marker, as she had been instructed. She felt dizzy, but excited at the same time. What she learned wouldn't fix everything, but it meant something.

It meant she could have a life.

Max went downstairs. Her parents sat on the kitchen table, finishing the last of their pancakes. The had set aside a stack for Max as well, of course. Her parents turned to her, both wearing tentative but hopeful smiles on their faces. Her mother, Vanessa, spoke first.

"Good morning, Max. Would you like me to make you fresh pancakes? Yours are probably cold by now, but I'm sure your father will eat them all the same."

Ryan nodded in affirmation, his mouth still full.

"That's fine, I need-"

"Are you sure? I still have plenty of time."

"Mom, dad, I-"

Max's hands gripped the back of a chair. Ache With Me stood beside her, even if it was invisible to her parents. She never expected it to be easy, but she had to do it. The talk she had with her other self hadn't freed her of her fears, yet it had given her courage.

She had told her of the others, of their stories, of the times where her parents had been supportive, the times where they hadn't understood, the times where she herself hadn't realized the meaning of the pain in her heart every time she looked at the mirror.

She had to do it for them.

"I'm transgender."

* * *

Rachel Amber's body felt cold and sore. It wasn't the first time she had woken up feeling like shit after a party, but this time was different somehow. Everything was too bright, too clean, too white. She could see faint shapes and lights in front of her, but her vision was blurry and it hurt to keep her eyes open. The floor felt oddly familiar, like paper on her skin.

The last thing she remembered was meeting Nathan in the boys' dorms. They were supposed to go to a party. She thought she remembered having a few drinks or more. She definitely remembered feeling too drunk to stand, and then Nathan helping her walk.

She tried to push herself up on her knees. Only then did she realize her wrists and ankles were bound with duct tape.

Fear cut through her like a knife. She tried to get on her knees, though the sheer effort nearly made her throw up. She could hear a voice from beyond the lights. Photography lights, she realized. The paper floor was a seamless backdrop. Whoever else was in the room with her spoke again. She couldn't make out the words, but it was a voice she recognized.

"Nathan?"

It hurt to speak. She could feel her voice breaking. She almost wanted to cry. Why was Nathan here? What had happened to her? Why wasn't he helping her?

He was walking towards her, and he had something on his hand. The light reflected off its long metallic tip. It was a hypodermic needle.

The fear in her was pushed aside by a burning rage. Her body felt weak, but her mind was clearer. She didn't know how, but she had to hurt him and run away.

She couldn't stand up and she was too weak to fight him. The walls to both sides of her were bare and windowless. The room beyond the blinding lights was too dark to see, but she couldn't feel anything from it. No air currents, no open flames, no running water. She couldn't even feel the air outside the building they were in.

No, that meant they weren't just in any building. They were underground.

Nathan stepped closer to her. He was holding the needle in front of him, like a weapon. She could almost see it tremble. He stood halfway in front of the light.

She noticed something just then. Those were incandescent tungsten light bulbs. Barely anyone still used them, and the only ones being sold anymore were specialty photography bulbs. She remembered Mark saying something like that in class. Purists still swore by them, though, and they did have a very clean and pretty light.

Even so, most professionals were using LED lighting now. Incandescent light bulbs were more potent, but they were also inefficient, wasting a lot of excess energy released as heat. This could sometimes cause them to fail. She could use that.

She tried her best to focus, even as he came closer. She remembered the bulb was filled not with air but with some sort of gas meant to disperse heat. That made sense, but it was also a problem. What was it called? Chloe would have been able to tell her.

Chloe. She didn't know how long she'd been out, but Chloe would probably be blowing up her phone with calls. She was probably worried sick.

If she ever wanted to see Chloe again, Rachel needed to get away.

She needed to concentrate on the lightbulb. Even as Nathan kneeled in front of her and grabbed her by her hair. Even if his very touch made her taste blood. Even as the needle touched her skin.

He hesitated. She grit her teeth and closed her eyes tight.

The lightbulb burst in a flash of light and a blast of glass shrapnel.

She would have screamed if her jaw wasn't clenched shut. Nathan did scream, and clutched the back of his head as he fell to the ground. Under the remaining light she could see blood staining the white paper backdrop under him. She reached for one of the shards that landed near her and began to desperately use it to tear at the duct tape binding her ankles.

She rose to her feet and turned towards him. He was still on the ground, writhing pitifully, looking up at her with tears in his eyes and blood running through his hair. She was still holding onto the shard of glass. She had half a mind to tear his face to ribbons with it.

"Rachel, wait! Please, listen to me, I'm so sorry, I had to..."

She didn't want to hear his apologies. She wanted to make him scream. She wanted to burn him to ashes and to crush his charred bones under her heel. 

She turned and walked away instead.

She could barely see anything in the room with how dark it was, but she could make out rough shapes. A couch, a table, some shelves and lockers. An exit. She wobbled towards the closest wall to hold herself up against and moved towards it.

"Rachel, no, stop!"

She could hear him trying to get up, crushing the broken lightbulb under his feet. She did her best to run, but she was still too weak. She turned the corner into the dark.

There was a door. She pushed herself away from the wall and all but fell towards it.

The door opened and Rachel crashed against the man standing behind it. Her skin burned when his hand touched her neck, then her head did, like a horrible fever, worse than any she'd ever felt.

Someone turned on the lights, too bright, blinding. Her knees buckled under her weight, and she found she didn't have the strength to keep herself from falling. Someone kicked her. She barely felt it. Slowly, the world went dark. 

* * *

It had been two weeks since the last time Chloe saw Rachel.

She heard her voice at least twice a day, when she called her phone, prompting her to leave a message. The voice mailbox had been full since day two.

It was nearly two in the morning and Chloe stood in the hallway right before Rachel's dorm room. She had a key, of course, but she had convinced Rachel to get a bolt latch, just in case. There was a click as it came unlocked and she took her hand off the door. She opened it as quietly as she could and walked in.

Everything was as she had left it. The bed was unmade, as she'd left in a hurry last time she'd slept over there. She guessed the least she could do was to try and fix it.

Once she was done, she went to the calendar on the wall and crossed the date with her marker. May 6th 2013.

Three years prior, Chloe and Rachel had danced together to Firewalk in the old mill.

Two days later, their life had been turned upside down. They had planned their escape walking hand in hand through empty streets. They had kissed for the first time, under the streetlights, with ash falling all around them like snow.

They day after that... everything went wrong.

But they had survived it, hand in hand, through thick and thin.

"Where are you?"

Her voice broke halfway through her question, and only then did she realize she was about to cry. She furiously wiped her eyes with her sleeves. She couldn't break down, not here, not now. She needed to keep looking. There had to be something.

But she'd already ransacked the room halfway through the first week. She had gone through all the pictures, all the notebooks, all the hiding spots, anything resembling a clue. She had spent a whole day putting everything back in its place. She didn't want Rachel to come back to her room and find it a mess.

Rachel would come back. No matter what, she'd come back to her. She always did.

Her dad and Max had left her five years ago, one after the other. Chloe still remembered her dad every day, but she hadn't thought about Max in forever. She had stopped writing unsent letters to her former best friend over a year ago. Was she really that low?

Rachel would come back. She had to.

The one good thing in her life couldn't just disappear like that.

Chloe sat down on Rachel's bed and checked her phone again. No calls, no voicemail, no messages, nothing. Only her lockscreen picture, with both herself and Rachel smiling together, side by side.

She wiped the tears from her face again and got up to leave the room. Once outside, she locked the door once again. She placed her hand on the door and closed her eyes, focusing on locking the bolt latch.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Startled, she turned to the right. Three doors down stood Victoria Chase, partially illuminated by the faint light coming from her own room. Because running into her was just what she needed to make her night even worse. Chloe really hoped she couldn't see how raw and red her eyes were.

"None of your fucking business, that's what."

There was no need for subtlety. Victoria knew already. A metallic blue arm materialized from Chloe's own and phased through the door, locking the latch before retreating and disappearing.

"If you're breaking into my dorm, then it actually is my fucking business."

"I didn't break in, Rachel gave me her key."

"When she was a student here. She's gone now."

"She's not gone!"

"Fucking hell, Price, it's two in the morning. Do you want to wake up the entire floor?"

Chloe grit her teeth. Much as she hated to admit it, she wasn't wrong. She couldn't afford someone calling security on her.

"Just leave me alone. If you really don't know what happened to her, then you’re useless to me.”

“Listen, you’re not the first person in the world to get dumped. You're certainly not the first person she's fucked and thrown away."

Chloe grit her teeth. She could taste the vitriol on her tongue.

"Speaking from experience?"

That shut her up. Chloe matched her glare. Victoria's face was unreadable. 

Victoria sighed and walked into her room again, closing the door halfway.

"You're not going to find her. She doesn't want you to find her. Nothing happened to her, she just got tired of this shitty dead-end town, and of you too, it seems."

"Something must have happened, she can't just have left, she-"

"She left, Chloe. She's in Los Angeles, in Portland, in New York for all we know. She used you and she left you, just like she always does. The sooner you come to terms with that, the better it'll be for everyone."

With that, Victoria shut the door behind her, leaving Chloe alone with her thoughts in the dark hallway.

Rachel couldn't be gone. Not like Max, not like her dad. Not Rachel.

Part of her wanted to kick Victoria's door in and yell at her. Maybe punch a few of her teeth out for good measure.

And then she'd have every girl in the floor coming out of their rooms and calling campus security on her. She'd get arrested, get thrown in jail for who knows how long, and stepshit would never let her live it down. It'd get that much harder to leave the house and look for Rachel.

It wasn't worth it.

Gritting her teeth, she turned and left without a word.

She had work to do.

Chloe walked back to the entrance with her shoulders hunched forward and her hands clenched hard inside her pockets.

The air was cold outside, the sky was clear and full of stars. On a night like this one, like many times before, she would have taken Rachel out on her truck, all the way to the junkyard. They would have laid down the inflatable mattress on the truck bed and laid next to each other to watch the stars all night.

She huffed and put a cigarette between her lips. Only when she tried to light it did she realize her hands were shaking. After the fifth attempt to get a flame, she gave up and shoved the cigarette back in her pocket.

Chloe reached behind the bushes next to the entrance for her longboard. It was a beat-up old thing she got for cheap. Not nearly as fast as her pickup truck, but easy to hide and much quieter for when she needed to sneak into places.

Keeping her eyes and ears open for any patrolling security guards, she ran into the woods and hopped the fence that marked the school limits.

Once she was on the road, she put her headphones on and jumped onto her board. It'd be a while until she got back to town, but at least she'd get to enjoy carving down the empty road at night, with nothing but the stars and her music keeping her company.

Rachel would have loved a night like this. She wasn't as much into the thrill of going downhill at full speed as Chloe was, but she could dance on her board like no one else. Chloe could almost see her before her, doing cross steps and pirouettes, turning and swaying to the music.

Suddenly, she was blinded by light. She heard the blaring horn of the car that had turned the next corner and was now driving the wrong way towards her. She swerved to the right, but it was too late. She had to bail.

Chloe jumped as hard as she could. She felt a sickening crunch and felt the pain in her leg a moment later. Broken, no doubt. Rachel would chew her out about it when she saw her again. She fell by the side of the road, rolling as best as she could.

She lifted her head to look back at the car. It had barely slowed down, and was already barreling up the road away from her. She would have shouted every profanity she knew if she wasn't struggling to catch her breath.

Instead, she stood up and inspected the damage.

Her jeans had torn at the shin, but not too badly. It barely warranted fixing. Her board, however, was in a much worse state. The deck had cracked in half, well beyond repair. Sighing bitterly, she knelt down beside it.

Five minutes later, her broken deck was on the side of the road and she was walking away with the trucks in her pockets. It'd be a bitch to save up for a new deck, but maybe Justin or Trevor could hook her up, if they weren't sick of her shit already.

The wind picked up and the air seemed to grow even colder, making her wince. It was going to be a long walk home.

* * *

Max Caulfield laid awake on her bed. Almost five years prior she had left Arcadia Bay in tears and shame. Things were different now.

After a four-hour drive from Seattle, she had expected to be too tired to do anything but sleep, but she had somehow found the energy to unpack most of her stuff and even make the bed properly before laying down to rest. She had the best night's sleep in recent memory and woke up early, with plenty of time to write on her diary before getting dressed.

It was going to be a great day. She was going to attend classes in her dream school under her dream professor and with her real name in the student registry. Things could not be better.

Just then her thoughts went to Chloe. She hadn’t heard a word from her in years. Knowing her, she was probably off in some college somewhere, studying chemistry or some other STEM career. She had always been great at that. She still felt profoundly sad at the thought that she may never see her again, but perhaps that was for the best. If anything, it meant there was no one out there she could run into who may recognize her.

She checked the time on her phone. There was still a lot of time before her first class, more than enough to grab some breakfast. She had to remember to eat after taking her pills every morning.

She finished getting ready quickly and grabbed her camera bag. She put it over her shoulder and searched inside it until she pulled out an instant picture. On its back was the date October 2nd 2008 in black marker. The very first.

"Ache With Me."

As many times as she'd done it, she feels like she'll never quite get used to it. The picture flickered, shined, shifted and grew larger. The Max inside the picture was soon as tall as the one outside, and she smiled back at her.

"How do I look?"

"You look great! How about me?"

"Wonderful! I love what you've done with your makeup."

It was still amazing for Max to hear her own voice coming from her other self's lips. When she spoke she always felt like it wasn't good enough, but hearing it be so soft and feminine whenever she visited one of the others gave her some much needed confidence.

"Are you gonna grab some breakfast before class too?"

"Yeah, just something light. I think I have enough time to take some pictures around campus too."

"That's a great idea! I should do the same. Oh, and don't forget to water Lisa!"

"Oh, of course, thank you!"

With that she said goodbye to her other self and the picture shrank back to its original size. She stowed it in her bag, together with the rest.

As promised, she watered her plant before exiting her room.

Once she was outside, however, the thought that she may not have enough film in her camera came up. Had she remembered to put more in before leaving Seattle? She searched inside her bag for her camera, only for it to slip away from her fingers as soon as she took it out.

"No!"

It had flown just out of her reach on its way to helplessly crash against the hard floor, but a ghostly hand materialized just in time to catch it. Half a second later. Max grabbed it with her own hands and cradled it against her chest.

Only then did she notice the person standing on the other end of the hall. Max froze.

The girl on the other side of the hall had just come in through the door. Maybe she hadn't seen anything? To anyone else it would just look like her camera seemingly floating in the air for less than a second, but maybe she had been too far for her to notice.

She started walking towards Max. Now that she could get a better look at her, she could see that she was in fact very pretty. She had blonde hair in a pixie cut and was wearing a rather expensive-looking black cardigan. She was also glaring at her.

Had she actually noticed her? Or maybe she had clocked her? No, that wasn't possible, she had run into a lot more people while moving in and hadn't gotten any weird looks. She was absolutely certain she could safely pass.

Instead of approaching Max, however, the girl just turned and entered the room right in front of her own, marked 221.

Max let go of a breath she didn't know she was holding and checked her camera, which turned out to be at full capacity. Not only that, but she had packed extra film in her bag already.

Feeling more than a little embarrassed, she set on her way to exit the building. Her first interaction with one of her neighbors hadn't exactly been a disaster, but it had been far from a success. She hoped she would get the chance to make things right at some point. She had promised the others that she'd do her best to get to socialize.

That and she wouldn't mind meeting that girl again under better circumstances.

No, that was too risky. She'd better figure out exactly how safe it was before she tried anything like that. It was an arts-oriented school in Oregon, so it wouldn't surprise her if many of them were openly gay, but that didn't necessarily mean they'd be accepting of trans people.

Maybe then she'd try talking to a cute girl or two. Not that the others would leave her alone about it otherwise.

She couldn't believe she had once thought she'd be straight after she transitioned.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading the first chapter of my new fanfic! It's essentially a re-imagining of the Life is Strange story with the introduction of stands from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, specifically the Steel Ball Run universe. Max's powers, as you can see, are very different here. Admittedly I think it'll probably be easier to read for someone who knows Life is Strange but isn't too familiar with JoJo rather than the other way around, but I'll do my best to make it easily approachable regardless of which fandom you're coming from.
> 
> Thanks to [ArcaneMorganite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcaneMorganite) for proofreading!
> 
> Stands introduced in this chapter:
> 
> [ **Ache With Me** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5iJW-0P5Db0)
> 
> Power: [C] Speed: [C] Range: [D] Durability: [C] Precision: [C]
> 
> Do you share the same sense of defeat?  
>  Have you realized all the things you'll never be?  
>  I've got no judgement for you  
>  Come on and ache with me


End file.
